


Something Strange But Kinda Nice Too

by TelepathicTeaTime



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Happy Meihem week!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-08 06:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7745947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TelepathicTeaTime/pseuds/TelepathicTeaTime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jamison Fawkes knows better than to cling to things. He knows better than to cling to people, to places, even his own damn limbs and name.</p><p>Than why can't he let Mei go?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Here We Are

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to my first Meihem oneshot, 'Something Broken, Something New' so I would definitely go read that first before starting here! This will be taking the bond established between them there and fleshing it out, making it a little something deeper, a little something...more.

Jamison Fawkes knew better than to cling to things. He knew better than to cling to people, to places, even his own damn limbs and name.

He learned when the world fell apart, that the tighter you held on to something, the worse it’d hurt when it was ripped from your clutching hands. Or _hand._

It was bollocks to hold onto anything too tight, anyways. Things broke and got lost all the time, even the best of junk had to be scrapped sooner or later, and places were never in the same direction you left them, never matched the postcards they sent, and didn’t last long under a barrage of bombs and mayhem, so what was the point of being attached to any one place? Home was anywhere you could take a shit for all he cared.

It was people who were really tricky, it was people who were the easiest to cling to and ended up causing the most damage, like rolling in barbed wire that could talk and joke and worry and _care_ . He hardly remembered his folks at all at this point, but still the mere mention of someone else’s happy family was enough to rev him up, to fill him with this sick, white hot fire that he wanted to wash the whole world in. And how many of his fellow Junkers did he watch get swallowed up in the Outback after the crisis? They may have been a strange lot, a frankenstein collection of people with bodies as broken as their minds, and true, they might have not liked him much, hell, he didn’t even like most of them that much...but it was something to see the bullet-riddled corpse of someone you’d been scrapping with just the night before roasting in the sun, it was _something_ to see the bloke responsible for your given name fall before an omnic, his few remaining teeth bared in a death scream.

Junkrat had been done with people long before he had ever left Australia. You couldn’t trust them a wink not to steal your shit or your life, and more than that, you couldn’t trust them to even stay _alive._ He could count on himself, and that had been enough for awhile, but...

Then he met Roadhog. Roadie. Hog. _Brother._ He was supposed to have just been his bodyguard, a big ol’ slab of muscle and anger to keep him safe from the all the folks who wanted him anything but..but after traveling the world over with someone causing mass destruction, leaving nothing but  smoldering ashes to flutter like farewell confetti in your wake, it was hard not to become as close as family. And Roadhog was a man much like Junkrat himself, in that, he was not quite like anyone else had had known. He wasn’t content to just survive in the world that had taken so much from him, oh no, he was going to take it all back, take he wanted, what he deserved. He also understood it was important to _give back_ , and that was exactly what the two men agreed to do someday. The duo weren’t going to give back any of the money, the treasure, the blood, the breath, they had taken, oh no...They were going to return all the pain and fire instead, the loss and the death. _Plus interest!_

It was this shared goal that assured Junkrat he could trust Roadhog to not just keep him alive, but stay alive himself, that he wouldn’t fall as easily as everyone else had.

Plus Roadie was such a card, how could he have not let him into what was left of his shuddering, oil-filled heart?

So Junkrat had sworn up and down, crossed his heart, swore to die, and stick a grenade pin in his eye, that Roadhog would be the last person he clung to, that only the man in charge of keeping him from harm would be the one to cause it when he decided the only place he had left to burn was hell itself.

 

And that’s when the gorilla in glasses had contacted them about a lil’ operation called Overwatch.

He had been rightfully skeptical at first, the last time they had been offered a chance to be legit, it hadn’t ended so well...for the lying suits and omnics anyways, but still it had been a bit of a headache for him and Hog too! Not a brains splattered all over the concrete headache like everyone else had suffered, but still!

But Winston, as the polite chap of an ape called himself, had insisted it was a chance to blow shit up and not get in trouble for it, to get paid even (legit going legit, for _real_ this time!)  and that as long as they served under Overwatch, they would be safe from the clutching hands of the law. He would have been crazy not to accept such an offer! Er...crazier, anyways.

And much to the Junkers’ surprise, Winston hadn’t been fooling them one bit. It really was everything he had promised and more...the more bit being that the organization was teeming with weirdos just like them, maybe even _weirder._

There were omnics acting like they were good guys and fighting on their side (yeah, that was a real laugh!), and at least three zombies that he knew of, which kinda pissed him off because what made them good enough to come back from the dead? If everyone else didn’t get to come back, why did they? _The dead should stay dead,_ was arguably the most sensible idea in his radiated and broken mind. There was even a real cowboy, with the giant hat and everything! (Who did not appreciate Junkrat pouring bitters into it to see if it was really ten gallons, but he just had to know…!)

And of course, the broads. It had been awhile since Junkrat had been surrounded by so many beautiful women on a day to day basis like this. Most of the Junkers back home, if not all, had been men, and the one or two women who remained in the Outback were as attractive as a strip of kangaroo jerky caught in a garbage disposal. And Junkrat wasn’t the type to chew roo-jerkey even if he’d been starving... _blegh!_

Besides, once him and Hog had hit the road and the cash began to toll as high as their body count, well, who had time for things as trivial as the old in and out?

Junkrat did have his ways of coping with the lack of feminine company, though. Sometimes if he squinted hard enough in bright sunlight, or in the smoky haze of night, his bodyguard’s fat, squishy tits looked like they might have belonged on some busty broad, and that had been a  good enough substitution for him.

But now, with Overwatch, he had the best of everything! His treasures were safe where he had hidden them, he was safe from the clutches of the cops, he had all the bombs and all the shit to blow up as he wanted, and he had the time to chat up actual women, and not just Roadhog’s chest.

 

There was a pinch of bitter in all that sweet, though, a sting of sour on his tongue. It was with all this opportunity, surrounded by so many new people (liabilities was more like it!)  that he had broken his oath to himself, because now he found himself clinging to yet another person, his lil Snowball. _Mei._

And in the present moment, this wasn’t a figure of speech alone for the Junker. He was there with her, in her room, in her bed, clinging to Mei as if he would drift away if he didn’t, his ear pressed firmly against the gentle rise and fall of her chest. What more, he was clinging not just to her, but a sound. A sound as warm and steady as the sun on his back, burning him up with its presence. Her heartbeat, the second sweetest sound he had ever heard in his life (nothing could or ever would top the frantic screaming of his enemies as his rip tire tore them all to shreds, _nothing!)._

In a situation that most folks would be blissful in, Junkrat was furious with himself for enjoying it so much. Furious because he knew one day, even this quiet thump would be gone for good, taken from him like everything else. He just couldn’t decide if it would go with Mei first, or with his hearing entirely.

But he was getting ahead of himself, per usual. He hadn’t just ended up in the warmth of her bed, of her bosom, all willy-nilly like. In fact… even Junkrat himself was perplexed as to how a rotten, half-bodied clown such as himself had ended up in the arms of someone as smart, as beautiful as Mei...his snow angel. He knew the hairpin, and the encouraging words had been the first few wobbly steps between them, sorta like a… _yellow traffic light!_

He himself had never been one to pay attention to those stupid blinking lights, his engine was always reering to _go, go, go!!_ And he’d be damned if a machine ever told him when to stop...but that was the only analogy he could pull out from his brain right now, soft and mushy with affection and drowsiness. Yeah, that day had turned their light from a hateful red to a lukewarm yellow, but...when it had turned green to let something like _this_ happen?

Gnashing his teeth against his lip, he began to fidget in thought, at once forgetting the very woman he was thinking about was trying to sleep beneath him.

“Wazzit because of that?” He mused out loud, clenching and unclenching at the sheets with his black nails, “Nah, nah...it might ‘ave been because of that one fing, tho’? Hmmm….”

He had begun to shake his one good foot against the mattress, thinking that maybe the answer had slid like a slug from his skull to hide between his toes, but he could not feel its slimy weight anywhere...but he did suddenly feel a warm presence on his face.

Mei, disturbed from her sleep by his twitching, had curled her arm up from where she had been hugging his back to stoke his cheek, tender as a breeze. Junkrat watched her face intently, but she did not open her eyes, merely pursed her lips and breathed, “Shh… Shh, it’s alright...shhh…”

Before once again her hand went limp against his face, fingers unmoving. He kept his golden eyes trained on her soft, unguarded face a few minutes more before he moved again, this time to reach for her fingers with his own.

“Right, right…” He whispered as he gently grasped her hand, smiling crookedly at the feather-light squeeze he received in return.

He could figure this out, he just to had to think of what Mei would do. And he knew if his lil Snowball was awake right now, she’d look him in the eyes and suggest in that contained voice of her’s, the one she used when she didn’t want him to think she was belittling his own intelligence but _hey, here’s a better idea…_

“Well, if you already know the beginning, why not just go from there?”

Her voice came as a soft echo deep in his brain, beckoning him to delve deeper and really remember.

Junkrat knew the only thing more dangerous than clinging was remembering… remembering was like waltzing into a haunted house and throwing open every single door, with something or someone you didn’t want to see no more waiting on the other side, ready to scare ya, ready to hurt ya.

But then Mei moved beneath him, nestling closer against him with a sigh, and he found his resolve.

No...his time with her was not a haunted house. If anything, it had been the rest of the amusement park...fun, and exciting, and flashy and so sweet it left him feeling sick to his guts in the best way possible.

Remembering his time with her was just going to be another of the rides is all...a wild one, at that.

He only hoped he wouldn’t puke.


	2. Where We Were

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hairpin had only been the beginning- Of visits, of conversations, of something...not entirely awful, between Mei and Junkrat.

It began with Junkrat dropping in every so often just to annoy her. He’d knock on her door like rattling machine gun fire (and always with his metal fist to make the extra racket) until he heard her groaning in frustration as she walked up to let him in. As soon as she had the door open a crack, a smidge of a crack even, he’d scramble in all smiles and affectionate pats and always with the same greeting, “G’day Mei!”

And she’d respond with the same roll of her eyes and sigh, “Junkrat.”

He usually didn’t sit during his visits, opting instead to rummage through all her belongings with greedy and rodent-like fever, leaving them smudged and out of place in his wake, giggling manically all the while. Mei had tried to stop him of course. At least at first, anyways.

She’d trail behind him like an especially aggressive shadow, wiping furiously at everything he touched with a handkerchief, nudging them back into place with loud huffs that rustled her bangs and reddened her cheeks. Sometimes Mei would catch him peeking at her from over his sunburnt shoulder, a mischievous gleam in his eyes and a shit-eating grin on his face, and it would take every ounce of restraint she had just to toss him out of her quarters rather than freeze him into an ice sculpture.

“See ya next time, Snowball!” Junkrat would call gleefully as the door slammed in shut in his face, his arm squeaking as he waved good bye.

This was the routine for a couple of weeks, right up to the frays of Mei’s very last nerves. She had been tailing him per usual during one of his drunken hurricane visits, resolute to tell him that this would be his very last one, that he was not welcome back again, that while she appreciated the thought behind him making her a new hair ornament and saying such kind words about family, they really did not have anything in common and he did not need, no, _she did not want_ him to visit her again. _Ever._

But...could she really say something so mean? Watching him flip through her books, just to toss them carelessly back on the desk with spines bent and pages askew, and not back into the shelf...she decided she could.

Inhaling deeply, she fixed him with the coldest stare she could muster. “Junkrat, listen. I have something to say to you.”

He was still taking books off the shelf, rifling without reading through the pages, and flinging them in a pile. He didn’t even bother to look at her as hummed, “Ohh izzat right, Snowball? Then spit it out!”

 _With pleasure!_ She thought smugly, and opened her mouth to kick him out once and for all when he let out a sudden shout, causing her to let out a shriek of her own.

“What is it?! What?!” She cried, stumbling back, already reaching for where she kept her endothermic blaster. Were they being ambushed?! Was it enemy forces? Spies? Soldiers? Was it-

“You!” He turned on her suddenly with a gasp, his nose buried deep in one of her books. When he looked up with a look of awe on his face, she went from panicked to confused, baffled by the sudden gleam in his eyes.

“M-me?”

“You went to America, Snowball? No way!”

She looked at the book he held open in his dirty hands, and saw that it was one of her few surviving photo albums, this one dedicated to all of the traveling she had done for her lectures and field studies. She saw her own face smiling up at her from the page, flashing a peace sign at the camera as the Statue of Liberty looked on solemnly in the background.

She hadn’t looked through those pictures in...well, _forever…_

Entranced, she reached out for the book and Junkrat pushed it into her hands eagerly, like a child expecting his favorite bedtime story. “I...I did, actually. For a seminar on global warming…”

She had completely forgotten about that. She went when she was still young, only twenty-two years old. It was the findings she presented in that particular speech that earned her the attention of Overwatch, and would lead to all of her other international travels in their name. To see herself like that, so eager and young and completely unaware of what the future held for her...it was kind of surreal.

She snapped out of her trance to see Junkrat had spun a chair around and was actually sitting down for once (albei backwards…) and was looking at her expectantly, if not a bit impatiently. “Well? Are ya gonna tell me bout the good ‘ol US of A or wot?” He rolled his hand at her to go on, and when she only stared at him in disbelief, he jabbed at his wrist impatiently. “Tick tock, tick tock! I ‘ave other adorin fans to grace with my presence today too, y’know!”

Mei glanced from the album to Junkrat, and shook her head, clutched the book close to her chest where she could keep it safe from the junker’s reaching hands and hungry eyes. “Why do you want to know? Why do you _care?”_

He rattled the back of the chair so hard its legs squeaked, elated that she had asked. “Why she asks, _why?!_ Ahahaha! America had been me ‘n Roadie’s dream, y’see Snowball! We always talked bout sailin over the great big blue to get to ‘er one day…Our greatest work was gonna be pulled off there…! We had so many plans, the best plans a’ plans! It would’ve been a grand ol time...”

A dreamy look crossed over his grimy face then, and he became lost in whatever corrupt fantasy was occurring in the remains of his mind. Adjusting her glasses, Mei considered him carefully, a war was raging in her own head.

 _‘What are you waiting for? Kick him out now, tell him not to ever come back! This is your chance!’_ Commanded a voice as cold and powerful as a glacier, the voice of her logic, the voice that had yet to fail her even once. It was the voice she followed when she was in battle, when she was scaling dangerous mountain peaks, arguing for her cause against naysayers. It was the voice most like her own, and she nodded her head once in unanimous agreement with its advice.

But as she opened her mouth to utter the words that would finally get Junkrat out of her space and hopefully, away from her for good, she was stopped by another voice. This one was soft and light as fresh snow, and one she heard from far less often now that she was active on the battlefield. This voice was the one that recalled her family and friends from the past lovingly, that happily and excitedly shared her knowledge with anyone who asked for it, who laughed and shared stories with her _new_ family now. This voice was not as strong or loud as the other one, which boomed authoritatively from her brain, but came lilting soft and pleasant as a song from her heart.

 _‘Just sit with him a minute. And talk to him._ Really _talk to him for once. You’ve never even given him a chance now, have you?’_

In all honesty, she hadn’t. She had known his sneering mugshot long before she had ever seen his face in person, been aware of his violent history long before they’d been formally introduced. And when they finally did meet, when the Junkers joined Overwatch only a few months after she herself had contacted Winston and re-enlisted (all of her former recruitment papers had been stamped in large block letters, red as blood over her ID picture, **_DECEASED_ ** )  Mei felt no need, no desire even, to get to know them outside of what the news had to say. Her mind had done the work of filling in the blanks left by the reports on its own, concrete in her conviction of who the duo were, who Junkrat was.

 _Junkrat was a filthy, cruel, terrible excuse of a human being. A criminal with no remorse, no drive outside of havoc and destruction. A_ bully.

But as of late, Junkrat himself had been throwing all of her ugly first impressions of him into question, breaking what she thought was immovable stone down into malleable clay, throwing her mind into a see-saw of _True, but…_

It was _true_ that he could be inconsiderate of his words and actions to the point he caused serious offense, _but_ he did try to make the effort to understand why others reacted the way they did and try to fix it in his own strange, and surprisingly considerate way. It was true that he was reckless and unpredictable on the battlefield as he was off of it, but he acted in way that posed so much harm to himself in order to help his fellow teammates and keep them safe, even at his own expense.

She thought of how she had witnessed this firsthand when he had risked his life to save her from Widow Maker,  and the time and effort he had taken to construct her a new hair ornament in apology after her’s was destroyed in the aftermath.

And though it seemed all of his humanity had seemingly burnt away in the scorching radiated heat of the Outback, once in awhile Mei could see shimmers of what compassion remained in him. After all, it was Junkrat who had turned her eyes outwards from the cold darkness seeping into her brain to acknowledge that even in the throes of missing her parents, her _biological family from the past,_ she had a new family right here in Overwatch that loved and cared for her deeply right here in the present.

He was definitely still boorish, and filthy, and obnoxious. He still talked too loud, and fidgeted too much, and his mind was completely void of common sense and basic courtesy. These were aspects of Junkrat that could not be debated, they were core parts of who he was and wouldn’t change no matter how much time she spent with him, this Mei knew for a fact.

But she was starting to wonder if he was really as cruel, as really as big as a bully, as she had first pegged him to be. Could Junkrat really not be as bad as she first thought?

If an entire lifetime dedicated to science had taught Mei anything (and it had taught her much, of course) it was that there wasn’t a single question not worth pursuing. Even if the answer was never found, or the knowledge gained had no practical use, simple curiosity was reason enough. And according to the scientific method, the first step to answering any question was research and observation....

And though it her brain was screaming at her, ‘ _How can you use reason to excuse something so unreasonable?!’ This isn’t logic, this is...this is stupid!’’_ Mei found herself slowly sitting down in the chair opposite of Junkrat, an act of defiance against all she knew and believed in, in the name of all she knew and believed in. Folding her hands atop the photo album in her lap, she cleared her throat and startled the Junker from whatever daydream he’d been engaged in. He seemed surprised to see her sitting there, looking at him so openly.

He narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously, his lip curling. “Hmm? Whaddaya gawkin at-”

Mei interjected quickly, before she lost her nerve, before _he_ got on _her_ nerves, “So! Why didn’t you go to America? What stopped you?”

For a moment, he seemed dumbfounded that she had steered the conversation his way, was looking at him expectantly for an answer. Then quick as a tick, the moment passed and he laughed, manic and full and loud, doubling over his knees. “Stopped me!? Ahahaha! Oh Snowball, nothing has stopped me-” He flashed her a smile that twinkled gold in the corner, and shook his head like she’d made a silly mistake. ( _You did!_ Screamed her voice of reason, _You sure did!_ ). “Nothing can stop me! It’s jus this ol’ Overwatch business is keepin me ‘n Roadie busy right now! We’ll def still get there, don’t you worry your pretty lil head about that!”

With gleaming eyes he  suddenly leaned forward, drumming his fingers excitedly against the photo album, the sound discordant with the mixmatch of  flesh and metal, “But _you’ve_ been there, eh Snowflake? What’s it like? C’mon, tell me! C’mon, c’mon, out with it!”

And the look on his face was so earnest, so eager to actually listen to what she had to say, she couldn’t keep the corners of her mouth from twitching into a smile as she told him about her trip to America, how she’d been sent specifically in China’s honor, how that had been her first step to joining Overwatch.

That’s not to say she did so peacefully. Junkrat interrupted her like punctuation, with all matters of comments, of questions and jokes. How often he disrupted her did  not surprise Mei in the least, what did though, was how _harmless_ his frequent interjections were.

When she spoke about being chosen by the government to attend the conference, he barked loudly with laughter. “Ah course the suits would want _you_ and all’o your brains to go for ‘em, not like they have any of their own, those dills! Ahahaha!” And then glancing at the ornament he’d made for her in her hair, added quickly with a thumbs up, “Err, yer folks must’ve been right proud, huh? Good onya!”

The questions came as she described the trip itself, and they came in the same barrage Junkrat liked to throw his bombs on the battlefield, loud and all at once. “Was there lotsa stuff to blow up? How were the broads, did they have big tits? I heard their grog tastes like piss, izzit true? Are their thongs really tiny lil ass strings instead ‘ah shoes? Did’ya see any yourself-ahahaha! Oooh ohh! And the banks, I heard they’re everywhere, ripe with moolah! Me ‘n Hog are gonna visit every single one of ‘em one day, you’ll see! We’re gonna be the richest mates in _all the countries!_ ”

It was that statement that reminded Mei of the sprawling, lengthy list of countries the Junkers were wanted in, each location clamoring for their heads for more obscene reasons than the last, and offering more of reward for their capture or death too. She was sure they were all more than outraged to find that rather than turn them in, Overwatch had hired them to be on their side...The thought crinkled her nose with worry, the two really were nothing but trouble...but she shifted her focus to the common ground she had found in the realization instead.

“So you and Roadhog have done quite a bit of traveling together, yes? How was it?”

She jumped back when Junkrat cackled loudly with laughter, and snapped his fingers into guns at her. “Oh, Snowball! How wazzit!? How was it being the baddest, most successful crooks this side of the big blue?! The cash, the treasure, the mayhem?! How was it?!” He was no longer talking, but screaming in his excitment, his eyes rolling as wild in his head as his hands were flying in the air, and Mei scooted her chair back with an audible screech, regret creasing her brow at once. Now, she had really done it, but...

 

There was something contagious in his enthusiasm, burning and frantic like a fever, and as they went back and forth about America, about their travels, Mei found herself falling under the same spell, though she didn’t seem to realize it at first. It started with tapping her feet against the floor, and grew to her knees bouncing rhythmically in her chair in pace with their banter. And as she watched Junkrat fling and throw his arms, no, his whole body as he reaccounted tales of some of his and Roadhog’s greatest escapades (ducking low into his lap to dodge police gunfire, shooting up with arms extended to mime an especially big explosion)  little by little she began to do the same retelling her own tales. First it was just a wave of her arm to express the sprawling view from the top of her first major mountain climb, then a little more as she talked about the time she conjured her first blizzard in a fight, her fingers and arms twisiting above her head like a raging storm.

 By the time Mei had gotten to telling the story of how she’d once nearly become a snow leopard’s dinner during an expedition in the Himalayas, she had lost herself completely in the rush of storytelling, and lunged forward in her seat with her hands curled into the very claws that nearly ripped her limb from limb, and let out a roar. An honest to god roar that echoed off the walls and made Junkrat jump in his seat.

As soon as she did, she quickly recoiled back into her chair, as if trying to melt into the cushion. She...she could not believe she really just did that. What had gotten into her? Humiliated, Mei hid her face in her hands, nearly burning her fingers with the intensity of her blush, her shame only growing as Junkrat hooted and howled in response.

“Oi, S-Snowball! Buh...blimey!” He wheezed through fits of laughter, the chair creaking as he leaned forward and back in it. “Ahahaha! I always knew you had _somethin’_ in ya… but a roar like that?! AHAHAHA-AHHH?!”

He had been rocking back and forth so violently with his laughter, the chair had given out beneath him and sent him crashing to the floor in a mess of splintered wood and tangled limbs.

Mei watched him go sprawling through her fingers, dropping one hand to cover her mouth in shock. _Oh! He fell!_

She had expected him to jump up right away, maybe curse a bit, but Junkrat simply remained sprawled on his back on the floor, his golden eyes trained on her ceiling like he was staring into the afterlife itself.

After hours of such rambunctious conversation, the room seemed to swell with the sudden silence, stretching itself at the seams with the weight. It seemed as if the walls would collapse in the absence of all the noise that had been bouncing off of them just moments ago, when...

There came a small, soft sound, not unlike the tinkling of a bell. It was a little muffled at first, coming from behind Mei’s soft palms, but when she moved her hand to clutch at her side, it only grew louder, brighter.

“Pffft-hee...heehee-heeheehee!”

Junkrat craned his neck up from the floor to watch the climatologist laugh at him, arms wrapped around her soft, rolling sides as she bubbled with glee. Her nose was all crinkled at the bridge, and her cheeks were still blooming with blush, both with embarrassment at her impromptu leopard impersonation and now with triumph at his own misfortune. She was laughing so hard that her glasses had slipped down her nose, and for the first time Junkrat noticed how thick and pretty her eyelashes were, like they’d been dusted with heavy gunpowder. She was so….

He let himself slump back to the floor, a smile racing against a blush to stretch across his dirty face. “Yeah, yeah...I guess I did ‘ave that one coming, eh..heheheh...ahahahahaha!”

Their laughter mingled together then, manic and sweet as a sugar rush, and anyone walking by Mei’s room would have most likely assumed that it was where Overwatch locked up only their most crazed prisoners, and maybe crazy was the best word to describe Mei in that moment, or so she’d be convinced later as she replayed what occurred next over and over in her mind later on after she was alone.

Her laughter stopped abruptly when Junkrat scooted across the floor to sit cross-legged directly in front of her, his chin balanced in his palms.  “You’re a fun one, Snowball! A real ace!” He declared with a smile full of yellow and cracked teeth, poking her knee with a black-nailed finger.

She leaned away from his sudden, complete attention, balling her fists shyly into her lap. “O-oh? Is that...is that so?” She flashed him a smile as quick and small as a minnow darting in a pond, bright in the light but gone just as quick. Internally, though, the remark left her feeling pleased as punch. _Really fun, huh? That’s…_

“You’re rather entertaining too, actually. I had fun talking with you today, Junkrat.”

The compliment slipped from her mouth as easily as sunlight pouring in through the dawn, and the sincerity in which she said it startled Mei.

Had she really had fun with one of the _junkers_ of all people? _With Junkrat…?_

But it didn’t even take much consideration to realize that yes, she had. She had always assumed being members of Overwatch was the only common ground she had shared with Junkrat, and even then their reasons for being present were on complete opposite ends of the spectrum. She was there to help, to do good and help save the world. He was a criminal there for profit alone, a mercenary, free to destroy as he pleased, as long as it was against their enemies.

Today had shown her that there was a little bit more than that to Junkrat, though, and that there were at least a _few_ other things they had in common, and even where they lacked in similarities, they were able to discuss their own experiences and still have a nice time. That they could have fun…

“Well, Mei...it’s been a fun, but I gotta ramble!”

She blinked as Junkrat affectionately patted her knee and stood to go, his prosthetic creaking with the effort. He wobbled a bit on his good foot, and without thinking, she gently grasped his arm to steady him, his skin greasy under her hands.

He pulled his arm from her grasp almost right away, then smiled at her a little too quickly, a little too wide. “Fun and nice, eh? What a good sheila…” before he started hobbling his way towards the door. His mechanical arm brushed nonchalantly at where she had touched him.

Mei watched him go, wringing her hands awkwardly. She had only meant to assist him, but all of a sudden it felt like all the good cheer in the room was leaving on his back, leaving the room cold and dry and quiet. After how surprisingly pleasant the day had gone, it felt wrong to let it end on such a weird note like this…

She opened her mouth to call out after him, and say...what? Sorry? Come back again soon? When he seemed struck by an idea and whirled back around, punching his metal fist into his open palm.

“I was just struck with the most brilliiiiiant idea!” With uneven strides he was upon her once more, looking down on her devilishly over his nose. “Y’wanna hear it?”

She shrunk back, from his looming figure, his sour stench, uncertain. He had just been so eager to leave...what could have changed his mood so quickly? Adjusting her glasses, she peeked up at him with a quirked brow and shrugged.

“Um...I suppose-”

She squeaked in surprise as he slung an arm over her shoulder, pulling her into and side and right near his armpit... _Which oh god what horrible terrible smell was this she couldn’t even breathe oh-_

Seemingly oblivious to how terrible his own stench was, Junkrat went on coyly, “Y’know Mei, I was thinkin’. And-oi, don’t give me that sick look, I really can think y’know!! I was thinkin yeah, it’s been a real time just hanging out in yer room and chewin’ the fat like this, really it has, but…”

He dissolved into a fit of manic giggles, all his bravado from moments ago lost as he clutched at his chest, shoulders shaking.

Mei took the opportunity to shove herself away from him, turning around to breathe in deep lungfuls of air that did not carry his stink. When her nose no longer burned, she turned to watch him have his little giggle fit with a huff.

First he was having fun, then he was mad, and now here was laughing hysterically at something...How did he not exhaust himself cycling through so many emotions in such a short amount of time? It was enough to make her feel exhausted, anyways…

Junkrat seemed to realize he had been laughing long enough, and stood up straight, flicking a tear from his eye. “Sawrry, sawrry! I crack myself up sometimes, ahaha... _Anyways!”_

He was smiling with all of his teeth, but the look in his eyes had taken on a more serious light that made Mei pay close attention to him. Not on guard, not like she was in danger, but there was a weird pressure between them right now she couldn't shake off.

Coughing into his gloved fist, he began again, “Anyways, I was thinkin that next time, we can uh...y’know...head out?”

Crossing her arms across her chest, Mei only regarded him skeptically. “Head out? You mean like...on a mission together?”

The realization that in the months since the Junkers had joined Overwatch, she had never actually been assigned on the same team as either one of them hit her. She wasn’t sure if they could even request team assignments like that, as Winston took great care in putting them together for optimal success rate...but she didn’t seem the harm in asking. Why did he want to be in the field with her anyway? Was he afraid that she'd freeze up during battle again? Oh, heehee, that one had actually been kind of funny, unintentional, but funny-

Her train of thought derailed as Junkrat frantically shook his head no, slicing his hands through the air. “What? Nah! Nah, nah, nah! This ain’t ‘bout business, Snowflake! This is about fun! What I mean is, like-” He rubbed the back of neck and began muttering to himself under his breath, rolling his head this way and that.

Mei watched him, baffled and completely confused. “Then...what do you mean? Just…”and teasing him from earlier, sneered, “ _Spit it out, Junkman!”_

The joke wasn’t lost on Junkrat and he paused to stare at her, mouth agape, before he barked loud with laughter. “Ohhh, just out with it then, izzat what you want?”

He inhaled deeply, and tried again. “What I mean is, Mei, let’s go out next time! I’m asking you out of your room here to go, y’know... _out. Out, out!_ Hahaha, I’ve said it enough that it doesn’t even sound real no more! Out, out, oooout-Oh?”

He stopped his rambling to peer into Mei’s face, which was hot with blush and still with shock. Her lips were moving ever so slightly, like she was saying something, or maybe arguing with herself?- but no sound passed from her lips. And though he was looking right at her, she didn’t seem to see him right now.

“Ummm...Mei? Hellooooo?”

He waved a hand in front of her face, then snapped his fingers loud as gunshot, and when even that wasn’t enough to break her trance, he _hmmmm’_ d thoughtfully to himself and looked down at her own hands hanging limply at her sides.

With a shrug, he reached for one and held its gentle weight in his hand, his real hand so that he could actually feel it. It was soft as a peach, but kinda cold and clammy too, like a...like a clam in a sweater. _Weird._ He had always assumed a sheila’s hand would feel a little different...but then again Mei was pretty different than most other women. It made sense even her hand would feel different, too.

It was this simple gesture that finally seemed to pull Mei back from the present, and she looked from his face to their clasped hands and back to his face with a look of complete bewilderment. “What...what are you doing?! Asking me out?! H-holding my hand?!” She retched her hand from his forcefully, and cradled it with her other as if she had been burned. She was shaking her head incrediously, and nearly spat at him, “What are you _thinking_ , Junkrat?”

He turned away abruptly, scuffing his boot against the floor. He had shoved the hand he’d been holding her’s with deep in his pocket, and Mei could see the rise and fall of his knuckles against the fabric as he clenched and unclenched his fist within. When he spoke, it was the quietest she had ever heard him. “I was thinkin’...I was thinkin’ that…”

He looked up at her, and there was a crooked smile on his face, barely stitched up at all. “Maybe...you could give this bloke a fair go? Like you said earlier, we had fun today, right? So why couldn’t we ‘ave any fun,” he tipped his head towards the direction of the door, smoke wafting from his smoldering hair, “out there?”

The question gave Mei pause, and the tension in her shoulders softened a bit and she looked from the doorway to Junkrat.

She didn’t think he was pulling a joke on her...the quirk in his lip and guarded stance seemed like he was really wounded by her reaction, which admittedly...might have been a little much. _A little mean._

And his request hadn’t been _so crazy_ , not really. He must have just meant he wanted to just talk elsewhere...not like a..an actual, for real _date..._ right?

‘ _Yes, that is surely what he meant...Besides! It’ll keep him from making a mess of my room again if we go elsewhere for conversation! Yes, this could work out okay…!’_

Mei turned to Junkrat with a softer gaze, her fingers brushing idly at the hair ornament he had made for her weeks ago. “Okay, Junkrat....We can go out next time.” Then realizing her words, quickly added, "Just out, though! To talk! Not like...out, out."

His neck audibly cracked with the speed he swiveled his head to look at her, eyes popped wide. “No foolin’?! You givin’ me the good oil, Snowball?!”

She couldn’t help but wear a small smile of her own in response to his, which beamed and almost made him look normal... _almost._ He had begun to bounce on his one good foot, and had balled his hands into excited fists. To Mei’s genuine surprise, he looked really... _happy._

“Umm, I don’t actually have any oil to give you, though?” She shook her head with a laugh, but nodded once again for emphasis, “But yes, I’m not fooling you-”

Mei jumped as Junkrat let out a loud, joyous whoop, and began to scramble towards the door like hell was at his heel. “I gotta go tell Roadie! He’s gonna lose his mind! Er- what’s left of it, anyways-hahaha! I promise you won’t regret this, Snowball! See ya real soon, ahahaha!”

His laughter was still audible long after the door had slammed shut behind him, the sound moving further and further away down the hall until the only sound left in Mei’s ears was the heavy cotton of silence.

A smile still plastered on her face, Mei raised her hand high in the air, as if waving good bye to her long gone guest, then brought it down hard against her face, _slap!_ Sending her glasses skittering to the floor and angry blood rising to sting at her cheek. Ignoring the pain, she raised her hand once more, delivering herself another slap. Then another. And just for good measure, one more.

_What had she done? What had she started? Where...where was this going?_

All she knew for sure was that her face hurt.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading the second chapter on my lil Meihem fic!  
> I honestly don't have a set schedule as to when I'll update this story, but I already have most of it written so that'll keep any delays from lasting too long in-between chapters! So thanks for your time, thanks for your patience, and hopefully I'll see you again next chapter!


	3. Where She Waited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mei knows what it's like to be afraid, a coward even. That doesn't mean she'll be cutting Junkrat any slack of his own.

Before she slept through the death of the world and everyone she knew, before she had scaled mountains and traversed seas, before she had even found her place in Overwatch… Mei liked to believe she had been a fairly normal girl.

As a child she had always enjoyed being outside, her thoughts lost high up in the clouds she loved to look for cute shapes in, the grass tickling at her ear and the sun warm on her skin. She’d stare up at the blue, blue sky until she felt her eyes fill with it, her mind awash with dreams and the same pale blue light. Even then, even so young, a voice cried from deep within her heart, _It’s so beautiful! I want to look at it always, I want to protect it!_

To get closer to the sky she loved so much, she took to climbing trees. Face turned upwards in determination, her dainty shoes abandoned in the dirt, she wouldn’t scramble up them with the same reckless fervor as the other children, but with the utmost patience and care, observing each possible branch and jump with all the strategy of an expert chess player. It was this slow and steady approach that always lead to her the very top of every tree she climbed, smiling happily at the sun while her parents cheered for her down below amongst the other grumbling, pouty children she had out-climbed.

Mei’s love for playing outside did not interfere with her other passion, though, which was school. Well, maybe it was not so much school- not with the boys who sneered at her and were always trying to flip her and the other girls’ skirts, or some of the teachers who visibly grimaced every time her hand shot into the air (which was frequent) eager with an answer or a question or sometimes even both, only to ignore her to call on a male student...and definitely not with the scary ghost who lived in the girl’s bathroom (the same ghost who had dumped water on Mei from over the stall door, or so some other girls had claimed when she stepped out with her uniform soaked and bangs dripping, a bucket she couldn’t see hidden behind their huddle of legs). No, school wasn’t what Mei truly cherished, it was _learning._

No matter what other people did or said to her in school, she knew she could find solace in the knowledge she gained there, that the rush of discovery she felt while working in the library or the science lab felt so much better than the lonely ache in her chest when she was in the hall or at lunch on her own. Mathematical equations could be used to busy her brain instead of having it replay her getting purposely tripped on the way to class over and over again, examining world maps and writing down all the places she was going to visit someday distracted her from where she felt trapped and alone, and studying weather patterns gave her hope that while things might be bleak and cloudy now...the sun would always find a way to shine again.

Most of all, she learned that there was only one thing necessary in life to overcome anything. It was one of the very first lessons she learned as her interest in environmental science grew, a lesson she’d soon come to realize every living creature on Earth must learn in order to survive each and every day. It was a simple idea, one that everything from the smallest of tadpoles to the most powerful of predators understood, and Mei herself soon adopted it as her own mantra as her years in school went by.

_'Endure.’_ She willed herself as day to day she picked up her books, her papers, her lunch, even _herself_ from the floor where the other students like to throw them, her face hot and hands trembling as a chorus of laughter rang in her ears.

‘ _Endure…’_ She pleaded into her pillow every night before bed, which was just as soggy and puffy with tears as her eyes were, her chest aching and aching and aching as if it was collapsing in her loneliness. She never cried loud enough for her parents to hear, who thought the world cherished her as much as they did. Even in the throes of her own grief, she never wanted to hurt them with the truth, didn’t want to inflict the same wounds she suffered from on them.

‘ _Endure!’_ She commanded her reflection each and every day before leaving the house, struggling to make the smile on her face warm and genuine when her eyes stared back afraid and cold.

And not only did Mei Zhou endure, but like a flower bursting into bloom after the harsh and unforgiving winter, she _thrived._

 

Since settling into Overwatch for the second time, Mei couldn’t help but notice how similar being apart of the organization was to being back in school, a thought that made her head spin with all sorts of emotions.

Once again she found herself busy with all manners of work day in and day out, but in all honesty, she appreciated how it kept her busy and out of her own head the way being at school had done; scrambling back and forth through the Gibralter base every day, her arms loaded with assignments that needed revision, mission sheets requiring approval, reports ready to be stamped in completion. The fact Winston trusted her to help him with such important tasks, overlooking information that could mean the difference between victory or defeat on a mission, life or death for their fellow teammates, filled her with a sense of purpose that kept her mind sharp and heart strong. She wouldn’t let him down, she wouldn’t let _anyone_ down- she was going to prove herself to Overwatch just as she had her parents and teachers.

Even going out on missions felt a bit like how simply walking through school grounds had been like for Mei back then, her senses on high alert for anything that could cause her harm, her mind alternating between three basic commands alone,

_Hurry! Go! Survive!_

The anticipation of an attack that may or may not come leaving her stomach twisted in balloon-animal like knots that would squeeze her chest until she finally arrived where she needed to be, breathless with gratitude that is was over.

 

She found the biggest difference was between her former classmates and current teammates. The prior had been the most prominent reason why she couldn’t lump school and learning into the same category of things she loved. Her parents had always encouraged to embrace her passions, to be proud of how she was and what she stood for, but the bullies she had gone to school with...they made her feel as if she deserved to be punished for those very things, that is she was so happy with herself, she should just stay with herself. To Mei, it seemed as if her classmates had gathered behind her back one day to discuss a few rules on how she should be treated- No kindness, no warmth, no acceptance for Mei Ling-Zhou… she knew in the depths of her heart if they had known what fate had befallen her in the Arctic, their lips would have curled in pleasure at the irony of it all.

Overwatch had given her all of those things when she was left with nothing, and more. Not just a place to live, but a home. Not only comrades with the same goal, but a family who genuinely cared for each other, settling around her like a quilt stitched with squares from many far-flung corners of the Earth, some a bit more tattered or strange than others, but warm none the less.

This companionship led to the down time around Gibraltar being much more fun than when she would hide away in the science lab back at school; instead of losing herself in stacks of books and data, she now rarely found herself alone, instead immersed in conversation and laughter with people who actually wanted her company, made her feel like her presence was welcome. It still overwhelmed her to remember her first full day back on base, the way Angela and Lena and Winston had rushed up to embrace her, joyous that she was still alive and with them, how immediately warm and familiar Jesse and Pharah had been with her, as if they had always known each other. Even Jack Morrison, who no longer seemed to be the man who Mei remembered, with his eyes distant and blank as he stood away from the group, got a little gleam in them as he finally approached and clapped her on the shoulder with his calloused and battle worn hand, the faintest twitch of a smile in his cheeks as he simply gruffed,

“Welcome back.”

 

Truthfully, Mei had hoped that meal time would be just as different, too. No longer an outcast banished to eat by herself, she had been excited to sit down and share food and conversation with her friends, something she had sorely missed throughout not just school, but her usually solo travels across the globe. Winston himself had held a team meeting encouraging everyone to take their meals at the same time when they could, not just to decrease waste and resources, but to build morale and trust with one another.

“We’re not just agents of Overwatch, we’re, uh... _friends_ of Overwatch too. We should all...get along…” He had stammered awkwardly from the front of the room, adjusting his glasses with uncertainty as he peered at the Shamada brothers  sitting on opposite sides of the room, Hanzo’s face severe in its stillness. The only noise in reply came not in agreement, but in the screech of Jack’s chair as he abruptly stood and marched out of the room, an angry vein popping above his brow next to his scar.

Mei was unsure how many of her teammates had actually taken Winston’s well-intentioned speech seriously (she thought it had been quite charming), but even if all of them had taken it to heart, it would have made little difference thanks to her own fault alone. She could never just...catch anyone on time.

Ever since awakening from her cyrosleep, timed meals was the one thing Mei was still struggling to readjust to. After sleeping for so long, when there was no such thing as time, when there was no need to eat, it felt very surreal for her to look at a clock and think, _‘Oh! The hands are there and there, that means it’s time to eat this certain food for this certain time of day only!”_

So unbalanced was the difference between her appetite and the clock, it was routine for Mei trudge into the large communal kitchen on base to find it empty, save for the post-meal mess left behind by her fellow teammates. She’d sit down with her usual bowl of rice with veggies or tofu in broth, and eat quietly in the company of empty peanut butter jars and limp banana peels, sip at her tea while observing crinkled chip bags pimpled with wads of bright pink gum. Sometimes the seat would still be warm with the presence of someone who she had just missed an opportunity to enjoy her food with, and that’s when she would truly feel glum, like she was middle schooler all over again.

Mei had always been the type to appreciate peace and quiet, and even craved solitude once in awhile when she wanted time to think to herself, but… not all of the time. Especially after being alone in the cold and silence and the dark for as long as she had, she found herself yearning more and more for the company of others, and staring at their dirty dishes, the remains of food shared over conversation, conversations she had missed because her brain and body could not function in the same time of everyone else… it felt pretty lonely.

Mei supposed it just couldn’t be helped. She was always hungry just a little too late to actually sit down and enjoy a meal with anyone...save for one teammate who seemed to share her time-troubled woes.

“E’llo love! How are ya this morning?” Tracer looked up from her biscuits with a twinkling smile, and patted the seat next to her with a welcoming flourish.

There were few people Mei appreciated in Overwatch more than Lena Oxton. She was always so kind, so encouraging towards her, and with her constant praise, Mei sometimes felt like she had her very own personal cheerleader by her side. What more, she felt like Tracer was the only one who could truly relate to what she had gone through in the Arctic, who could understand some of her grief and anxiety with being back in the present.

She too had been lost to time for so long, trapped in that terribly quiet and still place that was not death but was no longer living. But Lena, oh, poor Lena had been awake throughout her entire ordeal, forced to acknowledge every moment of her suffering. Mei could barely stand to think about it, the terror tight in her chest as she considered would it would have been like for herself, to be conscious for all those years waiting for help that would never come...she truly would have gone mad, she would have...she would have done something, _anything-_ to escape, alive or not...

It didn’t seem to bother Tracer much at all, though, and she seemed to regard the entire situation with a carefree attitude Mei truly envied. “We’re the girls time forgot!” Lena piped cheerfully over dinner one night, pointing her fork towards the clock over their heads. It was late, far too late to be eating dinner when most of the base would be rising for breakfast in a few hours, but there they were, passing napkins and sharing bites of the other’s food like it was dusk and not nearly morning. Typical for the two of them, really.

Mei watched the soft digital glow of the clock, chewing her food thoughtfully.

_The girls time forgot, huh?_

It was true they could be considered anomalies due to their experiences, Mei lost to time, Lena lost within it...Neither one was sure of where (when?) they truly belonged, or even what age they should be considered, and both were sometimes faced with the reality that the world they were in now was very different from the one they’d left behind, that even Overwatch was not the same as they’d previously known. It was smaller now, a bit broken, but...still a good cause worth fighting for, one they’d give their lives for even.

Mei looked from the clock and into the pilot’s face, so earnest and sunny even when she was stuck eating dinner so late with someone such as herself...and couldn’t help but smile in gratitude. How much lonelier would she have been without Lena to understand her feelings, both good and bad, how many more meals would she have taken alone at such odd hours without her company? Tracer wasn’t just a hero...she was a true friend, and that made mourning the death of the normal girl Mei had been in her childhood that much easier to do.

“Well, if we’re the girls time forgot, I suppose that does explain one thing that’s been troubling me…” Mei mused, hiding her smile behind her hand, as if she was deep in thought.

“Oh?” Lena peered into Mei’s face with a tilt of her head, curious. “What’s that, love?”

“Why I still look so _A-Mei-zing_ for my age!”

She hadn’t planned on laughing at her own joke, but as Tracer burst into gleeful snorts of laughter, clutching at her arm and reminding Mei that yes, she was really there in that moment, _they both were_ , she couldn’t help but join in, her own  laughter coming from somewhere deep in her heart.

 

The pair had been enjoying afternoon tea together one day; peppermint with three spoonfuls of sugar for Lena, green with extra honey for Mei, when the British woman’s eyes caught sight of something over Mei’s shoulder that caused her chatter to cease at once.

Mei watched as her  friend’s face circled through an array of motion in seconds, first her eyes narrowed in suspicion, then her brows and mouth quirked in confusion, then her mouth agape in shock. Finally, as if she was forcefully pulling her gaze away from whatever had caught her attention, Tracer turned back to the climatologist, her expression perplexed.

“Umm, Mei?” She beckoned her to lean in closer, as if she was about to share a vital secret with her, and Mei obliged, her curiosity piqued. Nose to nose with the pilot, she watched Tracer’s eyes continuously flick from her face to whatever was behind them in the hall, and she felt a nervous worm began to wiggle its way in her stomach.

“Are we about to be ambushed?” She whispered, her hand slowly reaching for the knife Tracer had left in her jar of strawberry jam. She had never actually used a knife in battle, but both her blaster and Blizzy were back in her room and would have to do…

Tracer seemed completely taken aback by her guess, and slapped Mei’s hand back into her lap. “Wot? No! No, no, no!” she exclaimed, giggling a bit to herself. “Haha, no Mei, nothin’ like that, love! Easy! It’s just…”

Casting one more look over Mei’s shoulder, Tracer whispered from behind her hand, “You know that one Junker; the squirrelly one, with the bonkers laugh?”

Mei’s heart sank into the depths of her stomach as blood rose to her cheeks. She hadn’t really mentioned to Tracer how much time she had been spending with the Junker in question lately, certainly hadn’t told her how pleasant of a visit they had shared last time, and _definitely_ hadn’t confessed she had agreed to go out, (but just out! Not _out out!_ ) with him anywhere. Why would she have? It’s not like it was anything important, or anything that mattered, right? It’s not like she’d be completely humiliated if he sauntered on it and acted as friendly with her as he did when they were alone in front of Lena or anything like that...

  _Oh no…!_

“Oh, uh, yes. You mean...Junkrat?” Mei offered, taking off her glasses to rub tiredly at her eyes, already knowing exactly what Tracer was going to say. The worry worm in her stomach had grew into a full blown anaconda, squeezing her guts as if to eat them.

Tracer nodded, snapping her fingers triumphantly as if she’d known his name all along. “Junkrat, right-o! Have you noticed that he seems to be acting quite odd around you as of late, yeah?” Below the table she pointed at the door, her brows zipping up under her messy bangs. “Like...right now even?”

Bracing herself, Mei turned to see a familiar, filthy face peeking at her through the doorway, grinning. Brown eyes met gold, and realizing he’d been caught, Junkrat dissolved into a fit of giggles and ran away, the maniacal sound echoing down the hallway with his retreat. “Ahahahaha!”

Turning back to Tracer with a groan, all Mei could offer was _“I know.”_

He had not yet come to collect her for their... _outing._ And what more, he hadn’t stopped by to visit since they had agreed upon it, or even say hello to her in passing. He seemed content to just pop in wherever she was like a nosy weasel ( _“Rat! It’s Junkrat, not Junkweasle!”_ she could hear him correcting her in shrill indignance, pouting like a child). It was all very weird... _he_ was so very weird, and it was starting to make _her_ feel weird.

His interruption at tea time had not been an isolated event. Just the other day she had been at the training grounds with Zayra, practicing her aim as she sank icicles into the training robots with satisfying _shk’s!,_ when the Russian woman had clapped a powerful hand on her shoulder, startling her.

“Ahh!” She cried, letting off a shot that soared high into the air, disappearing into the surrounding mountain mist. Somewhere deep in the haze, she heard a bird let out a pained cry, and as she stared into the mist in horror, her hands trembling in apology she couldn’t even begin to verbally express, Zayra leaned down to growl,

“Those veird ones-who wear no shirts? They ‘ave been staring at you for quite some time now...Should I go break zem?”

And surely enough, when Mei swiveled her head, there was Roadhog and Junkrat watching them from a distance. Rather than come over and say hello, like _normal_ people would, Junkrat merely ducked behind Roadhog’s massive form with his face in his hands, giggling loud enough that even the training bots turned to stare quizzically at him. Then he had scrambled off, his teeth gritted as he struggled to tow his much larger companion behind him by the arm, and that had been it.

“Vhat disgusting leetle boys!” Zayra had spat watching their retreat, her disapproval as plain on her face as the tattoos wrapped around her muscles. “Cowards!”

_Coward...yes._ Mei agreed wholeheartedly as she glimpsed Junkrat looking over his shoulder to wiggle his fingers at her in farewell. The sight caused a weird stirring in her gut, which she decided must have been nausea, c _ertainly_ must have been nausea brought on by how gross, how cowardly he was. He couldn’t even say hi to her face? He could only speak to her when she was on her own? He... _how did he manage to get under her skin like this without a single word?_

Bristling, she turned and fired one more shot at the training target, which exploded the robot’s head in a burst of ice and fire. Zayra whistled in awe, flashing her a thumbs up.

“Eempressive! Now, eet is my turn…”

Mei glanced from watching Zayra lift her particle cannon, muscles sharp and strong in her arms, to the sight of snow dancing around the flames licking about the robot’s destroyed face, and dared herself one quick peek over her shoulder back at Junkrat.

Watching his retreating form, she couldn’t help but wonder when he’d finally get whatever plan he had in mind over with. What was he planning for her, and for when? When would it finally be the day…

 

“Today’s the day, Roadie! I just know it!”

Junkrat boasted with his hand on his bony hips, standing as proud in his nakedness as a captain at the helm of his ship. Before him was the raging sea he’d conquer… the bathtub, which frothed with soap bubbles and hot water. Ohhh yes, if he was gonna do this, he was going to go all the way! _Squeaky clean, polished, and primed!_

Roadhog only _hmph’_ ed as he helped him unclasp his leg prosthetic, his robotic arm flipping them off from where it already lay limp on the floor, and helped him up and over into the tub with a splash, the water becoming murky at once with his filth.  “About time, boss.” He chided, unbuckling his license plate belt buckle to join him.

On the exceedingly rare occasions the Junkers bathed, it was always together. _Always._ No embarassment between them, no shame. (Though there was a bit of jealously on Junkrat’s end. Mako’s hook wasn’t the only massive equipment the bloke was sluggin’ around…)

It had been more out of necessity at first. Junkrat was at his most vulnerable in the bath, his junk-crafted prosthetics not exactly water proof or anything, and not much of a threat himself with just a single arm and leg to his name, and when was a bodyguard needed most if not when his boss was most likely to be attacked?

As their years on the road together ticked on by, though, Roadhog went from standing with his back turned and arms folded tight to whatever unfortunate pool Junkrat was making exploit, to kneeling by his side to help hand him soap or scrub at his back, to splashing right by his side just as naked.

Considering all the violence and destruction the two had wrought together, the cruelty they were not just capable of but happy to express, their naked bodies were probably the least awful part they had seen of the other. Besides, what so harmful about sharing a bath? No one ever got blown up with a bar of soap! Okay, maybe a bloke or two had, but no one who mattered to Junkrat anyways.

“Wow Rat,” Mako sighed as he sank into the tub beside him, the water sloshing over the sides with his weight to puddle across the floor, “Takin' a bath just to impress her? You must be real sweet on her.”

“Sweet, so sweet Roadie!” Junkrat agreed as he scrubbed furiously at his singed hair, the water running greasy and black into his eyes, burning them. “So sweet it rots me bloody teeth!”

The larger man chuckled, placing a warm washcloth over his hooking shoulder, which ached and throbbed with the constant effort his weapon called for. It was puckered with the scars of those who had taken desperate stabs at him to try and escape his reach, but the fact that those very scars were all that remained of those unfortunate souls spoke volumes of their success.  “So opposites really do attract, huh?”

Junkrat looked up from washing his foot, extended from the water like a bony shark fin, scowling. “Y’know, we’re not total opposites, me ‘n Snowball! You don’t have to sound so- _surprised!_ ”

Smirking, the smaller man quickly threw the already filthy rag at his mate like he would one of his grenades, hitting him in the chest with a wet slap, and turned his back expectantly with a huff. On a second thought, he turned to spit over his shoulder, like he was daring Hog to challenge him, “We have plenty in common!”

It pissed him right off to hear the smile in Mako’s voice as he accepted his challenge and retorted, “Oh yeah? Like wot?” as he began to wash his back for him in slow circles, mindful of his scars and burns even as they bickered.

But Junkrat was grinning like a shot fox himself as he sat up straight, smug that he had an answer at the ready.

“We’re both taken trots across the globe, ‘n been to lotsa the same places!”

“Travelin, eh? Alright, alright, that’s ace...What else?”

_What else?_ Junkrat felt his brain falter at the request, like a fuse blowing out in a sudden gust of wind. Of course they had a second thing in common besides traveling, he just… had to think about this for a sec…

“Uh...let’s see here...we’re both part of this Overwatch piss? That counts for sumthin’, right?”

Roadhog merely snorted, unimpressed. Eternally, though, he was laughing. Rat always made it so easy to antagonize him, left all his buttons exposed and just screaming to be pushed, and after all the bullshit he put him through day in and day out...Mako just couldn’t help but smash them in for a full system melt down.“Is that all? I might as well give her a go myself-”

“No!” Junkrat snarled, falling into his bodyguard’s trap at once. He whirled on him with his eyes blazing, slapping at him with the stump of his elbow like he meant to club his head in, practically foaming at the mouth, “No! Fuck off, Roadie! She’s _mine!_ Well, not yet she ain’t, but she’s gonna be ya fat pig! Just-! Just... _fuck the bloody hell off!”_

He frantically raked his fingers through his limp hair against his scalp, desperate to recall what other common ground he had found with Mei during their last visit. He knew here had to be more, right? Something that just gotten lost in one of the many holes in his brain, something that’d wipe that smile right off of Hog’s scarred and battered ugly face... Something that made them seem less apples and oranges and more matches and gasoline? Something like-

“Oi! I got it!” He yelped suddenly, slapping the water in triumph and splashing himself in the face with a sputter.

Mako reached over patiently and dried at his eyes with a towel, his gargantuan hands surprisingly gentle with the motion despite his intentional antagonization. “ ‘N what’s that?”

_Oi, this was going to be good…_

Peeking his face out from the towel, Junkrat flashed him a smile as bright as a flash grenade, his gold tooth gleaming.

“We’re both orphans!”

Mako bellowed loudly with laughter at once, the sound rolling like thunder to fill up the entire bathroom and rattle the sinks. “Oh no, boss!” He wheezed, his body shaking hard enough against the tub to make it creak, threatening to spill them both out to the floor, “Bloody hell no!”

The smaller man howled right along with him, waving his stump proudly in the air. Making Mako laugh was always a triumph, especially if he could prove him wrong in the same go. It made him feel like a smug bastard, and he couldn’t help but tease,

“Wot? Why are you laughin’ like such a dag, mate?” He demanded, the words choked by his own barking laughter. “Tragedy brings folks together, Hog! Ahahaha! Sheilas love a bloke with a troubled past, don’t ya know! But most’ah all…”

His gaze had landed on his reflection in the metal spout of the tub, his features exaggerated and warped in its shape, but one thing was still very clear to him as he mugged and winked back at his now clean face,

“ _Sheilas love a fresh bloke.”_

He was gonna knock her socks off! And maybe, just maybe...her big ol’ parka too.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, yes. A little more character building than cute shippy stuff in this chapter, but I really wanted to give Mei some more history, some more of what Overwatch truly means to her.  
> Also, I'm aware that her little robot's name might be Snowball,but at this point with "Snowball" being Junkie's main nickname for her, it'd just be hella confusing. So Blizzy it is! Like Blizzard. Ha...ha.
> 
> Anyways, brace yourself's for the next chapter, when Mei and Junkrat actaully go out! But you know, not... "out out".
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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